(Warning: Spoilers ahead for Apples Never Fall.)
Type A characters whose single-minded drive is a benefit and a curse are an Alison Brie TV specialty. Rumors keep swirling about a forthcoming Community feature-length film, but for now, “Six Seasons and a Movie” remains a fun reference rather than an actuality. While fans wait for Greendale College’s most famous alumni’s return, Brie steps outside the tightly wound box she’s known for on that show to play free spirit Amy Delaney in Peacock’s mystery drama Apples Never Fall.
While the likes of Annie Edison from Community and Trudy Campbell from Mad Men would struggle to take Amy’s penchant for hope circles and positivity ceremonies seriously, Brie delivers a different version of the single-minded drive that has made her work on those beloved TV series and other gems like GLOW so memorable. Throw in a picture-perfect family with a truckload of secrets and parents played by Annette Bening (in her first major TV role) and Sam Neill, and it is an easy sell.
Adapted from Big Little Lies author Liane Moriarty’s novel of the same name, Apples Never Fall throws the Delaneys into chaos when matriarch Joy (Bening) goes missing. Told across “Now” and “Then” timelines, the series from Melanie Marnich quickly reveals Joy’s marriage to Stan (Neill) is not as idyllic as their retirement party makes out. Similarly, the four adult Delaney siblings all exhibit degrees of falling apart. Each has their own commitment issues, whether at work or in their personal lives—or both.
Brie’s Amy is the pot-smoking black sheep of the family; her boho aesthetic and well-being industry vocabulary bristles against the athletic, competitive world Amy grew up in. “You can all be so fucking hard,” Amy admits when her painful personal secret comes to light in the third episode—all while spilling a bombshell about another sibling.
The morgue provides the unexpected backdrop to an intense back-and-forth between the youngest Delaney sibling, Brooke (Essie Randles), and Amy in the episode’s knockout scene, giving a showcase to Brie’s range of talent. Brooke labels Amy as “an emotional chaos sinkhole” before they all learn that Amy tried to kill herself when she dropped out of college 15 years earlier. The only person privy to this information is the now-missing Joy.
The family is shocked that the seemingly happy-go-lucky sibling had a mental health crisis. Not fitting in with her sports-focused family hasn’t been easy, and Brie excels at wearing the outsider status while putting a brave smile on Amy’s pain. But if that makes Apples Never Fall seem like heavy drama, Brie gets to also display her comedy chops in scenes showcasing the series’ lived-in sibling dynamic with Troy (Jake Lacy), Logan (Conor Merrigan-Turner), and Brooke—from airing out frustrations to playfully teasing each other.
In Apples Never Fall, Joy and Stan are former tennis players who are now coaches. The recent sale of their tennis academy in West Palm Beach was supposed to mark the start of a new life. Instead, retirement propels them toward implosion and accusations of murder. By Episode 3, it has been six days since Joy was last seen, and while Joy’s body has not been found, things are not looking too good for Stan. He can do his best Harrison Ford in The Fugitive impression all he wants, but a lot of people think he killed his wife.
Alison Brie as Amy.
Jasin Boland/PeacockAntagonism and alliances within the Delaney unit are put under the microscope when the mysterious Savannah (Georgia Flood) inserts herself into Joy and Stan’s home in flashbacks. The stranger-turned-daughter figure is far more attentive and grateful than the rest of the Delaney brood. However, Amy is convinced Savannah has something to do with Joy’s disappearance.
While the premiere introduces the Delaney clan, each remaining episode is named after one family member to illuminate their actions, relationships, motives, and skeletons in their closets. Amy takes center stage in the third outing when, at a police press conference, she decides the best course of action is to extend an open invitation to a hope circle in honor of her mom in a bid to “stay in a place of optimism.” Brie ensures Amy’s sunny demeanor doesn’t hide this character’s fears for her mother or her ongoing struggle to fit into a family that prefers working through their issues on the tennis court rather than a therapist's office.
Acting isn’t like tennis. Someone doesn’t “win” every single episode or season, and yet, awards season does turn the nature of performance into a championship of sorts. Somehow, Brie doesn’t have an Emmy nomination, despite showing off some of her best work on Mad Men and GLOW. The limited series landscape is stacked, and she might be up against stiff competition in this show alone (I mean, it’s Annette Bening), but she is the MVP of Apples Never Fall, and Episode 3 is her showcase.
Sibling bonds and battles
While Amy is more in tune with her feelings than her siblings, she does exhibit the same relentless tenacity when putting together the public display of hopefulness that plays out in Episode 3. The show’s toggling between timelines demonstrates how “catastrophizer” Amy is actually made to deal with a crisis.
Sure, her attempts to call local hospitals are organized chaos; she can’t find the post-it note she wrote (Annie and Trudie would never), and Amy doesn’t know how old her mom is, but her intentions are solid. Luckily, her roommate-landlord Simon (Nate Mann), is cut from the Annie Edison cloth, and as long as he isn’t a serial killer, his boundary-crossing tidying might be the worst thing about him.
During the first episode of the show, I assumed that finance bro Troy is the oldest sibling, based on his overall swagger and how he talked to his brothers and sisters. However, as soon as I realized Amy was the firstborn, everything clicked into place. From her need to maintain positivity and control to her close bond with Troy—even though they couldn’t be more different in personality and drive—she exudes big sister energy. Sure, Amy’s hippy-dippy Goop-ified buzzwords make her seem susceptible to fads and flakiness, but every time she breezes into a scene, I am charmed and ready to make her my life coach—or at least get high with her.
While the others can’t help but roll their eyes at Amy’s new-age speak, Brie’s sincerity ensures we know Amy believes everything she spouts. If Troy is her closest sibling in age and bond, then Brooke is on the opposite end of the spectrum. Throughout the third episode, the two are at odds. Or rather, Brooke seems annoyed at her sister’s entire existence—as the youngest sibling I also understand this. When Amy says she will give a blood sample to compare DNA, Brooke offers to take her place, mentioning Amy’s needle fear. Brooke might be the baby, but she sure likes to talk down to the other three.
It is a case of over-achiever Brooke finding fault in Amy’s woo-woo beliefs, adding negative tension to the positivity ceremony that Brooke thinks is humiliating and selfish—it doesn’t help that some attendees believe that their father, Stan, is a killer. Brie can sell determination with her eyes closed, but here it is mixed with an awareness that Amy is the family fuck-up, and without her mom in her corner, relentless optimism is her only shield.
While most of the flashbacks depict the recent past, Episode 3 offers a glimpse of an emotionally raw Amy being comforted by her mom in 2008. Shame swirls in this one-on-one, but Joy is a warm light for her daughter. It is a quieter scene between Brie and five-time Oscar nominee Bening that lets the weight of this interaction breathe—even if Brie’s wig is doing everything it can to distract.
The truth sets Amy free
Everyone Has Secrets could be an alternative name for this series (or, really, any Moriarty book), and Joy’s disappearance brings everything to the surface. When the discovery of a body turns out to be a false alarm, Amy’s over-the-top cry of relief is interpreted as anguish, which the other three siblings unsurprisingly take to mean their mom is dead. Sniping escalates, and Brooke lands the “emotional chaos sinkhole” insult that she immediately regrets when the police read snippets from a suicide note they wrongly think belongs to Joy—it was in Joy’s nightstand.
Amy is the only person who immediately recognizes the words because they are hers. What follows is a masterclass in reacting to your deepest secret coming to light. Brie shows Amy cycling through uncertainty in how to respond now that her family knows about her darkest timeline, but she quickly owns it. Weeping and wailing is off the table. Instead Brie has glassy eyes and a slightly wavering voice, giving way to confidence in her truth. “I am not an emotional sinkhole. I am different, and I’m honest. And I’m doing everything I can to bring mom home, which is more than you’re doing,” she says. The last part is aimed at Brooke, who Amy reveals “fucked Savannah— a lot.” Amy looks visibly lighter after unburdening herself of that nugget. It is safe to say that Brooke feels heavier as a result.
“Do you have to say everything that pops into your head?” Brooke asked that question in the past, but it could apply to the show’s present-day scenes. Thankfully, the Delaneys don’t get stuck in repeat with their sibling conflicts. Instead of more angst, we see the siblings bonding, like they do in scene where they huff helium from balloons. The scene is a showcase of Brie’s gift. Brie’s ability to deftly swing between comedy and drama makes every role she plays compelling, whether she’s starring in a sitcom, period drama, or a family mystery.
Thankfully for TV audiences, after this tour de force episode, we don’t have to wait for Community to enjoy classic Brie.
